Copy Cat
by Rand0mSmil3z
Summary: requested by sifberg, cover art by Ytwolfpup ! :D Pitch is up to no good again and Jack Frost decides to jump down the hole underneath the bed alone. But what he finds isn't what he expected; he finds himself, an exact copy if it wasn't for his copy's yellow eyes. Not to mention that his copy wants to kill him. Now what? *One-shot :) Enjoy! EDIT: now a two-shot
1. Chapter 1

_I actually wrote this story a while ago, on deviantart, and had been meaning to convert all of the i /i stuff to real italics. :D I take no credit for the plot idea or the cover art :) One-shot._

* * *

It was dark, the air stale as if it had been left sitting for days... maybe even years. This place was a tomb of stone, with random staircases falling to nowhere and hallways disappearing with no way to go. Such was the way of Pitch Black's layer, and it was confusing by design. After all, what does one feel when they're lost, helpless and confused, wandering down random passageways in the dark?

Fear, of course. Raw fear.

Jack Frost gritted his teeth, kept his wooden staff ready to either blast an icy snow bullet or club someone in the face with it. He followed Pitch here from the world above, where the sun was warm and the air crisp and fresh from the fallen snow. Jack's grip tightened around the wood; he was here to end things.

Pitch Black and Jack Frost, after all, a long history together. It started off with black sand on a globe, continued with a promise of revenge...

_And today,_ Jack thought grimly, _it will all end._

His bare footsteps were silent on the gray stone floors. Stone _surrounded _him, surrounded him like some sort of burial ground. It was cold, but Jack didn't mind. After all, he thrived in the cold, thrived in the snow and the early morning chills. It was the silence that Jack hated and, after three hundred years of suffocating _silence_, it was understandable.

Suddenly a shadow on the wall moved; Jack spun, heart beating into overdrive. His magic tingled his fingertips, vibrated down the base of the staff and illuminated the pale blue glow of frost. But there was nothing there exactly like last time and the time before that. Jack swallowed, turned back around.

"This is going to end tonight," he muttered under his breath, taking another silent step.

To his surprise, a voice answered. "Are you so sure about that?" The voice was cold - not Jack's type of cold either. This cold was the frigid voice of fear, the type that sent shivers down his back and reminded him of spider webs...

Jack spun around in an instant, magic clawing its way out of him. He saw it; it was a glimpse, but he saw the shadow disappear down the hall. Within seconds he was chasing it, his frozen footsteps in the halls the only testament he was there in the first place. As he ran the his frost followed him, crept along the walls and down the ceiling.

_Tonight,_ Jack swore.

The hallway curved left, then suddenly dropped into thin air. But Jack could hear Pitch's laughter coming from down below, luring him to the black depths he couldn't make out. It was a long drop, a drop that could easily kill a normal human, but thankfully Jack wasn't a normal human. He was a Guardian, a winter spirit,_ the_ Jack Frost. He jumped down below without any hesitation.

His stomach flew into his throat just as the wind, his wind, jerked him up. Within moments he was no longer the hail plummeting from the sky above but a snowflake, soft and graceful, gently landing on the stone floor below. Pitch laughed, his laugh bouncing off the tomb-like walls, and Jack was following in an instant.

_Tonight._

He sprinted all the faster, struggling to catch up. His footsteps hit the ground, though his bare feet didn't feel any pain. Within seconds he rounded the corner to a much larger room, mind set on freezing the whole layer solid...

...when he froze, breath hitched into his throat, sapphire eyes wide. Because there, standing just a few feet away, was an identical copy of himself.

Jack scowled, staff raised threateningly. _What the...?_ he thought, slowly moving forward to... himself. It was strange; the copy had the same white hair, the same pale skin, the same blue hoodie, the same ratted brown pants. Jack's scowl deepened; the copy even had the same staff.

Suddenly the shadows behind the copy stirred, then condensed onto the floor. Black sand rippled from the dark hole until a figure formed; Pitch Black himself. The boogieman placed a single gaunt, gray hand on the copies thin shoulder and smirked, yellow eyes gleaming.

But Jack only grinned in that mischievous way he was famous for. "What," he taunted, "you can't get enough of me?"

To his surprise, and utter horror, Pitch wasn't the one who answered. Instead it was the copy who raised its pale head, smiled at him, eyes twinkling. But there was one flaw; the copies eyes were yellow whereas Jack's eyes were the purest of blues. The copy's smile widened. "Not quite," it said, idly twirling the staff in its hand. "Though, feeling _unwanted_ is a feeling you know quite well, huh Jackson?"

_Jackson!_ Jack's eyes flared, his fist clenched around his staff_. How does that... that stupid copy know about my real name?_ "Well," Jack retorted, not one to let an insult fly, "at least I'm real."

That hit a nerve.

Suddenly the copy launched itself at him, yellow eyes flaring in pure hatred. Jack yelped and jumped backward, staff already flaring with power. Clear blue frost exploded from the tip and created a thick jagged barrier made entirely out of ice. Jack's feet hit the stone floor, head jerking up to survey the damage. _Did I hit it?_ he wondered.

But when the cold haze cleared the air, the last thing Jack expected to see was another icy barrier. But, instead of Jack's clear ice, this one was darker, as if black smoke itself had been frozen into the air.

"Nice try," the copy smirked, stepping from behind its masterpiece. "Guess being 'real' ain't it's all cracked up to be, seeing as how I just beat you."

"Beat me?" Jack scoffed. "As if."

Pitch Black, watching from the shadows, smiled and whispered, "Let the fight begin." With that he turned and disappeared down one of the hallways; it was his time to leave this place of stone.

...

Ice layered the floor in a thick sheet. Black ice mixed with clear ice and formed complex patterns on the stone floor. The air was chilled, practically frozen over in a freezing white mist.

Jack's feet felt frozen to the ground, but he somehow managed to keep fighting. Sometimes he slipped, sometimes he accidently missed his target - his stupid copy - and sent the shot wild. He didn't know how many days had passed and didn't really care to keep track. Time was nonexistent in this frozen stone tomb. Jack idly wondered if the other Guardians were worried about him yet. Sometimes his actions went on autopilot during his exhaustion and his mind wandered. He wondered if the Sandman was sleeping right now. Sometimes he wondered if Tooth was going out on a teeth collecting run, if North was busy ordering his yetis around, if Bunnymund was making Easter eggs. He wondered what Jamie was doing... was he going to school or was it a holiday? Jack never seemed to keep track.

Suddenly the copy-Jack was directly in front of him, staff bent back to launch _something_ at him. Jack's body instantly reacted though his mind struggled to keep up; his arms moved, ice formed around him in a protective cocoon. He had once wondered where Pitch went, but as the minutes dragged into hours and his muscles burned like no other he stopped caring.

Now his mind was numb, simply numb with only enough energy to send signals that meant only one thing: survive.

Suddenly the ice broke in front of him, sending pure shards spiraling in all directions. Jack barely had time to block the sudden blow as another staff resounded against his. Yellow eyes glared at him from underneath silver bangs but, to Jack's surprise, the copy was... crying.

"I hate you," it growled. Suddenly Jack was thrown on the ground, skidding across the slick floor.

"The feeling," he gasping, getting to his feet, "is mutual." But his vision swam and his head rocked back and forth, almost as if he were on a boat. His staggered upright, forced his tired limbs to _move,_ forced himself to stand. But as the seconds dragged on it got harder, more difficult, and it was getting hard to breath.

_This is it,_ Jack realized. He glanced at his pale hands; they seemed more pale than usual and shook against the harsh strain of constant fighting. He glanced up, forced his gaze to focus on the copy. Its hoodie looked more ragged, it was slouched and Jack realized at that moment that this was it for the _both_ of them. They reached their limits at the same time.

"Let's finish... this," Jack muttered between pants. He summoned all of the ice he had left, all of the cold and all of his crystal clear frost. The copy-Jack noticed and did the same.

This was it.

_One of us,_ Jack thought, _will never leave this place._

The air chilled further, the ice on the walls, ceiling, and floor thickening. This frozen tomb would become exactly that in the literal sense of the word - a frozen tomb. _But not mine,_ Jack silently swore. He summoned all of his magic, every ounce he had left, and let it simply explode out of it.

The force ravaged through him with a force he had never felt before. A scream ripped out of his throat; he heard an identical scream across from him.

_This is it._

The last thing Jack felt was his arms and legs freezing over, filled with a cold he didn't understand, before he fell forward and slipped into unconsciousness.

_This will end tonight._

...

When Jack woke up, the first thing he noticed that he was no longer surrounded by ice. Instead he was in a bed with bandages wrapped all around him. A window was close by and, with a wince, Jack managed to prop himself up. His muscles felt stiff and sore, his lower lip bruised from when he accidently bit it. Blisters covered the bottoms of his feet; some had burst.

Outside, however, it was a beautiful day. The sun sparkled off of the snow like a thousand diamonds, each small crystal more brilliant than the last. Snow covered the world in a single sheet, gently sloping the hills and softening the dips of the North Pole.

"You're awake!" Jack turned his head as North opened the door, holding a tray of cookies. "I was wondering when you would wake up!"

Jack groaned; suddenly he was excruciatingly tired. "How long have I been asleep?" he asked, plucking a cookie off of the platter.

"Ah... three days," North said mid-bite. Jack nearly choked.

"Th-three days?" Jack asked, managing to swallow. "How long have...?"

"You've been missing for seven," North confirmed. "Speaking of which," he added, rubbing his white beard. "What happened? When I found you it looked like a war had been going on."

"Something like that," Jack muttered, then said, "Anyway, did you see some other guy there? He looked like me - well,_ exactly_ like me, but had yellow eyes."

North scowled. "No," he replied simply. "Why? Should I have?"

Jack blinked in surprise, then turned back out the window. The image of the copy-Jack's crying, angry face telling Jack that he hated him flashed through his mind. To be honest, Jack wasn't sure _what_ to make out of that.

"No..." Jack said slowly. "Nevermind. Forget I said anything."

North blinked, then shrugged. "Whatever you say... I'll be back later to check on you!" he hollered as he closed the door. Jack watched him leave before turning back to the frozen world outside.

_I wonder where he went..._


	2. Chapter 2

_Hey guys! Long time no see! :D Rand0mSmil3z here with the second chapter to Copy Cat; my suyper-good friend Ytwolfpup from DA asked for another chapter and, since this amazing amazing person is sweet enough to draw a comic for Eternity (go to deviantart and look up Rand0mSmil3z, then go to my groups. It's Humanity-Eternity and all of my stories are there, but all of the fanart/art in general.) :) Besides, this was originally going to be a two-shot anyway so I thought, what the heck. At the end of the chapter, I'll add a few stuff on what I'm doing now and what's coming after this. :) _

_And thanks for all of the love and support guys 3 you're all so incredibly amazing!_

* * *

_ It's strange_, Jack thought as he watched the aurora lights flicker in the distance, _how something so beautiful could be so lonely. _The aurora danced like a ribbon swaying in the open breeze, glowed in the frozen night like a sole lantern cast out onto a dark sea. Jack shivered - not from the cold - and pulled his jacket a little tighter against him.

_Where did it go?_

It had been six months since his copy vanished. Six months of silence, six months of flinging snow onto different towns and cities, six months of mischief to fill up the silence. Bunnymund was always busy now, saying stuff like "Sorry mate, gotta work on the eggs," and North always threw a fuse when Jack dragged in the snow after a long day. Sandy didn't really hold up a good conversation, thoughTooth would always say hi to him and was always willing to be there if he needed anything, so that was nice, but she still didn't understand much about 'snow' and 'cold' and 'personal space'.

Jack scowled at the distance. _Personal space. _She was always jamming her feathery little fingers in his mouth and cooing over how nice his teeth were, how white they were, how they were shaped, blah blah blah, and after three hundred years of being alone it was hard to get used to it all. He was trying though, definitely trying, but sometimes it was hard.

_Oh well, _he thought, closing his eyes as he rested his chin on his knees. _At least I have nights like these._

Jack wasn't sure how long he sat there, but soon the gray twilight transformed into a brilliant, scarlet dawn. He yawned and sat up, stretching out the kinks in his back, before standing and grabbing his staff. He didn't have anything do to today. He kicked up a beautiful storm over Russia yesterday and now the wind was blowing it eastward. He also kicked up a smaller storm of Canada and parts of Alaska. He had half in mind to go to Cape Town, since it was technically their winter now, but Jack dismissed the thought. He made it snow there last week; they didn't need another couple of inches to deal with.

_So, _he thought, turning his face towards the sky, _what am I supposed to do?_

...

_Who am I?_

Copy-Jack kicked his feet over the Great Wall of Chine, head turned towards the midnight sky as he breathed misty clouds. The stars twinkled up in the sky; once, Copy-Jack had heard someone compare the stars to eyes. He thought that was stupid. Stars looked more like fireflies than eyes; first of all, they didn't have pupils. Second of all, he didn't feel like the stars were watching him at all. If they had been, he wouldn't be feeling like _this. _

_ Who am I? _

Copy-Jack tore his gaze away from the not-eyes and turned it towards the distant horizon instead. The silhouettes of hills cut the sky in half; the trees that covered them roughed up the edges. _Who am I? _was a question he had turned in his mind over and over again, pondered about it for so many sleepless nights, cursed it like a bat cursing the sun. Copy-Jack glanced at his hand, at his pale skin and slender fingers, to the several scars and other blemishes, and reminded himself that _this wasn't his hand. _This was the real Jack's hand; Copy-Jack was just borrowing it for a while. Maybe even forever, unless his fake body came with an expiration date. He tried asking Pitch about it, but the Boogie Man seemed to vanish off the face of the universe.

_Which leaves me on my own, _Copy Jack thought. It wasn't like he particularly minded being alone; after all, that was the way it had always been. What he couldn't stand was that the other Jack, the _real _Jack, wasn't. He had friends, a family as he put it, and didn't have to be alone all the time.

_But didn't Pitch say that Jack had been alone three hundred years? _Copy Jack remembered, then shivered. _Three hundred years of _this . . . _I'd go mad. _Suddenly he choked on laughed. _Maybe I already have. _

He turned his gaze towards the stars again, to the fireflies suspended in space, and asked himself again: _Who am I? _

A copy?

Or a person?

Copy Jack balled up his hands. _I can't take this anymore. _With that he stood up and jumped off the Great Wall of China, and decided to head North. Copy Jack had watched the real Jack from the distance sometimes and knew that's where he usually was. Copy Jack didn't even know why he bothered to check up on the real one - he cursed himself for it more than once - but for some reason, something always brought him back. Maybe it was because he didn't have anything better to do. Maybe he needed to learn from the original how to _be _original. Or maybe it was something less complicated; Jack was like the sun and Copy Jack was just a star, destined to follow the brightest light in the sky before being killed by it.

...

"Hey," Jack said from his perch on the boxes. North had been remodeling his office for about the thousandth time; his excuse was that he had been feeling 'old and outdated' (Jack laughed at that and told him that the only two people older than him _in the entire world _was Manny and Sandy, something that North didn't appreciate) but Jack figured it was more because he wanted to install a coffee-maker. One of the yetis came back with a this thing called a 'mocha frapachino' which send all of the elves into hysterics and all of the yetis on caffeine-comas. Shortly afterward, all of the elves passed out, creating one of the most silent days in all of Santauff Clausen history. North called it a 'miracle' and set up a shrine for Manny for creating such a marvelous concoction. It was probably still set up in the globe room.

"Hey," Jack said again, though a little more forcefully. Like the thousand times before, North ignored him and focused on measuring the wall instead. Finally Jack sighed and just decided to blurt it out. "Are we able to die?"

North started and dropped the ruler. It clattered on the floor as North turned to Jack, his sapphire eyes wide. Moments later he turned away, seemingly recovered, to pick up the thing he dropped. "Why do yoo ask?" he asked in his Russian accent.

"Just wondering," Jack replied innocently.

North paused before saying, "Well, wemember the battle wit Pitch?" Jack nodded, his face grim; how could he forget? "Well, wemember wen Sandy disappeared?" Once again, Jack nodded; he had been so scared then, so scared and so hopeless and full of hatred at Pitch, though mostly at himself since he wasn't able protect Sandy. His hands balled up into fists; it had been almost a year ago and the loss still stabbed at him like a knife.

"But Sandy came back," Jack said, knowing where this conversation was going, "because enough people believed in him again, right? I mean can we _actually _die, like the normal humans do."

North turned to him, arching an eyebrow. "Yoo were once a 'normal human'," he said, "and now you're a Spirit. Are you saying that you aren't normal?"

Jack smothered some laughter. _I'm about as far from normal as you can get, _he thought to himself, then amended, "I mean like can we die and not ever come back. Like, permanently gone." _Like my family. _

North watched him for a moment, his blue eyes seemingly peering into Jack's core, before saying very slowly, "No. There isn't a way. If enough people believe, you will always come back, Jack. And you do have people believing in you now," he added with a reassuring smile.

Jack smiled back, mostly out of reflex, then sobered. "What if I was killed before?" he asked, remembered back to when Pitch broke his staff. "Before anyone believed in me?"

A stray elf wandered into the office, only to leave immediately from the heavy atmosphere. "You . . . might not have made it," North finally admitted, then said in a much more cheerful voice, "but ah, who cares about that? You are okay, I am okay, Sandy is okay, and we are all okay, so cheer up a bit. Being upset isn't like you."

Jack blinked, then smiled again because he knew that North would have liked that. "Okay," he said. "Sorry."

"Ah," North said with a wave of his hand, "don't be sorry. Go get some hot chocolate instead." He turned back to his ruler and then, moments later, turned back to Jack and waved his hand. "Go. Shoo."

Jack laughed - a real one this time. "I'm going, I'm going," he said, lightly jumped off of the boxes and out the door. Talking to North, though he was really busy now, always made him feel better. He didn't feel so heavy anymore, didn't feel as weighted down or feel like something was gnawing in him from the inside out. In fact, he almost felt light again, and the constant questions floating around in his mind gave him a bit of breathing room.

He almost felt like _himself _again.

...

_ Are you kidding me? _

Copy-Jack peered out from behind a cliff of pure snow and ice and just _stared _at the massive thing that was called Santauff Clausen. Sure, he had always kept tabs on the real Jack, but he never followed him all the way out _here. _It would have been too risky. Even now Copy-Jack felt his nerves being shaken up and his hands begin to shake slightly. Some stray snow fell into his face, and he impatiently rubbed it off his face with his arm.

_This is suicide, _he told himself as he buried himself further into the snow. Suddenly he realized something. _Wait a minute, _he thought, propping himself in his elbows, _aren't I immortal? The real Jack is; I beat him to a pulp and he still didn't disappear. And what the real Jack is, I am too. _

For the first time since his creation, Copy-Jack grinned a real smile. _Immortal. _That meant he could die, right? So if the harry rugs called yetis caught him and beat him, he still wouldn't die or even if the master of Santauff Clausen found him, he would still be alive enough to escape. It was a wonderful thought, immortality, and Copy-Jack planned to use it to the fullest.

So, smothering his fear, he jumped off of the cliff of snow and freefell for a few seconds before the wind managed to catch him. His white air blew into his yellow eyes. His eyes were the favorite thing about him, mostly because they weren't blue like the original Jack's.

He gently landed on top one of the arching spires of the castle and took a reassuring breath that he didn't get caught. He could see some of the harry rugs down below out patrolling, but the security was lax - no doubt an after-affect of Pitch's defeat / absence over this past few months. _Pathetic. _With an effortless jump he silently landed on the hard ice that made up the patio area, then dashed inside. Luckily for him, he was the clone of one of the slyest, sneakiest beings in probably all of human history. After all, the real-Jack had over 300 years to perfect his craft, and Copy-Jack inherited every ounce of it. Copy-Jack knew everything that the original knew - his family, his death, his way of life, his habits - but chose only to remember only what was necessary. The goopy family-mess wasn't something he fully understand.

_After all, _the copy thought bitterly, _a clone can't feel a real thing like love. _Though, in retrospect, it was hard to miss something you never had.

...

Jack wandered aimlessly through the halls bored as all get-out. He wasn't in the mood to play elf-bowling (something that the elves hated with a passion) and didn't feel like bothering Phil today. So, the next best thing was snatch some cold-chocolate from the kitchen and dash off into the snow like a madman.

_Maybe I can even steal the sleigh! _he thought, then remembered how not-so-nice the reindeer were. Even Rudolph was upset with him after he froze the carrot, though Jack always claimed that it was an 'accident'.

Halfway to the kitchen Jack froze. There was a chill to the air, a subtle change in temperature from the norm. Jack had always been good with knowing the exact degree the air temperature was, a gift perfected over the years as being the master of cold. It was a difficult job to not accidently drop the temperature too low in, let's say, North America if the plants would all be killed. There was a finite art to his practice, an art that most generally overlooked.

_If I had a dollar for every time someone claimed that my job was the easiest, _Jack thought with a scowl, _I would be rich enough to buy myself a planet. Preferably Pluto. Or is that a moon now?_

Whatever. When did he care about planets or money anyway? As far as he was concerned, he wanted some cold-chocolate and that was -

_-_ that?

Jack's eyes widened; his reflection did as well. _Reflection? _Jack thought as his mind began to whir. _Mirror?_

Suddenly the reflection cursed and spun around.

_Ooh. Not a mirror. _

All thoughts of the cold-chocolate gone, Jack launched himself forward, propelled by a sudden unnatural gust of wind in the halls. The Copy-Jack, having the memories but not the experience, was caught in a heart-beat and thrown against the wall with a thud. A few stray elves, most likely the slackers, saw the scene and sped off, most likely to alert North.

_ Where are the yetis?!_

"Why did you come back?!" Jack demanded, his fist balled against the Copy's identical blue hoodie. "Was the last time I beat you up not good enough?!"

The Copy's yellow eyes, those all-too familiar eyes, narrowed for a brief second before closing. He sighed, raised his hands slightly, and dropped his staff. Jack frowned, his grip slacking for a brief second before he closed his fist again. _What is he . . . ?_

"I just want to talk," the clone admitted suddenly. He still had a defiant look in his eyes and his jaw was tense. A few yetis came storming past but froze when they noticed that Jack had it under control.

Jack, on the contrary, didn't feel in control at all. "Huh?" he said, loosening his grip. "To talk?"

"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" Copy-Jack demanded. "Talk to rocks?!"

_Talk to rocks. _Jack would have laughed if he didn't feel so lost right now. Talking to rocks . . . it seemed like a lifetime ago he tried that out. It didn't work so well. "Let me guess . . . rocks don't provide much conversation?"

The Copy-Jack's eyes widened slightly, as if the real Jack read its mind, before resuming his scowl. "Look. I'm not here to fight, okay?" Suddenly he threw his hands into the air. "In fact, I can't remember why I came. I'll leave, nice and quiet, and leave you alone for the rest of eternity, all right? So, let me get my staff - "

"And cold-chocolate," Jack piped up. "You should take that too."

But the clone shot Jack a confused look mid-way down to collect his staff. "Huh?"

"Cold-chocolate," Jack explained with a smile. It had just dawned on him; this other Jack was just lonely, something that he could relate to all too well. Of course the copy-Jack would come to him first; who else _could _he talk to? "It's actually pretty could," Jack pressed on, standing up, "and I like it, so you probably will too."

Copy-Jack frowned, but the cold look in his eyes were gone. Instead was the fresh innocence of a child, a small flicker of hope burning in his sunny eyes tinged with a fear that the opportunity would vanish. "Fine," he said, brushing his hair out of his face. A nervous gesture. "I'll go. But make it fast."

* * *

_ Aaaaand that's all I got. Copy-Jack has a new life of friendship ahead of him, Jack has a new friend in himself, and all is happy. :) _

_ Humanity and Eternity (two of my other stories) are being translated into Russian. Holy Guamoly. Many thanks to the person who asked to do this :) Both stories will be published here and onto many other sites, with a link to the original site since I'm a bit paranoid about people stealing or taking credit for my work. I honestly am D: Thanks to the translator for putting up with me haha 3_

_ So, I'm sorry everyone, but I'm moving on from ROTG. I'm planning on going onto Pokemon or Blue Exorcist (aka Ao No Exorcist, but I'm using the English way since WADYAKNOW, this is an predominantly-English site) with a few OC's. I have a few ideas for both; for Pokemo, a friend and I are doing a joint project with our own generation and for Ao No Exorcist (sorry, the english name sounds ridiculous to my ears. I imagine a smurf holding a cross and holy water, actually. Imagine that for a second hahahah :D ) I'm inserting my OC from the very beginning and writing a parallel-world type of thing with more back stories for all characters. That's the plan though. I actually haven't started anything. -_- Maybe once in a while I'll write some ROTG, but for the most part, only commissions. I ended my original work with Jack Black._

_ Anyway, sorry about the rant. 3 Stay awesome beautiful people! (Please check out the comic on DA - my amazing friend is drawing it for Eternity and it is turning out AMAZING 3 five pages in! Whooo!)_

_ Rand0mSmil3z_


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